When The Gods Aren't Watching
by Cupe
Summary: He was content in this unfortunate but rather enjoyable situation, but once others stopped turning the other cheek, Zexion began to realise just how dire this was becoming. How does one escape a wildfire? TW for questionable consent, rape, and violence.
1. Behind Closed Doors

**_(Author's Note: This is a very, very late Christmas present for selene-soulwar. She requested something vampiric involving Axel and Zexion. Well, it didn't quite end up with vampires, but I know what she likes....And this is what happened._**

**_This is the most graphic and hardcore thing I have written to date and I'm a little anxious about posting it but...If you don't like it, the door is that way!)_**

* * *

_Carve your name into my arm._

_Instead of stressed, I lie here charmed._

_Cuz theres nothing else to do,_

_Every me and every you._

* * *

Soft, shuddering breaths broke the suffocating silence in the frigid stillness of the small room._ Prison_. A voice in his mind whispered the word and he shivered, the chill easing itself through the stone walls and cracks between the door, assaulting his bare skin. Zexion cursed the situation for the umpteenth time, wanting to return to the thankful nothingness of unconsciousness. He wasn't even sure he remembered how or why he ended up like this. He simply recalled getting home...Then sensing something...Something..._Axel_! That _bastard_! He was going to get an ear full for this! Knocking him out, stripping him _naked_ and tying him up and leaving him in this fucking cold, dark room...

Zexion's thoughts were cut short when faint clicks of boot heels broke the heavy silence. A snarky question and demand for freedom came to rest on his tongue for when who, that he assumed was Axel (gods forbid anyone else find him like this), entered. He heard a heavier click and the door was thrown open, the harsh light banishing his smirk and witty words like the shadows.

Zexion flinched, blinking furiously to try and familiarise his eyes once again with light, when the glare was suddenly dimmed by an all too familiar silhouette. The door slammed closed again, snuffing out all but the luminescent green eyes of his antagonist.

"Well, well...Having fun, Zexion?"

How he loathed that tone! Smug, mocking...It only infuriated the librarian further.

"Eight, you bastard, release me this instant or-"

"Or what?"

That sickly sweet tone again...Axel knew damn well Zexion could do nothing in this state...

"I hardly think you're in any position to be making threats...Or indeed, demands..."

Ah, so it was going to be one of _those_ nights.

"Not tonight, I have other matter to attend to.."

Zexion replied firmly, swearing when Axel just laughed.

"I'm sure you can reschedule."

He felt a hand lightly trace his ribs, the fingers warm against his cold skin. Zexion shivered and could almost hear Axel's smirk, lips descending on his shoulders, kissing and licking before teeth sank into the sensitive skin of his nape. He cried out, feeling blood trickle down his back when the redhead pulled away.

"You taste so sweet."

Axel's voice murmured, a hand cupping the slate haired male's rear, lightly kneading before pressing a finger between the firm cheeks, the pressure against his entrance making him mewl. The tip dipped in then retracted.

"Mmm, you're tight..."

No shit...Zexion thought dryly. It had been a while since he had last been taken and from what Axel had told him before, he was naturally tight, no surprise given how damned small he was...

Axel presently pulled away and Zexion heard a rustling of fabrics as the other searched for something. He try to turn his head to see but could barely move an inch. Soon enough though, he heard a vaguely familiar sound...Like leather...What the? He didn't have the wait long to find out. He heard Axel pause a few feet or so away, wondering what was going on before something whistled through the air and blinding pain burned across his lower back. A whip. He vaguely heard Axel laughing and the tell tale crack before it landed again, tracking a fresh line of agony. To his credit, Zexion didn't scream, but he knew Axel wouldn't be satisfied with the cries and whimpers he was involuntarily producing. That was how Axel was. He wanted to hurt and humiliate, and he wanted a reaction. Zexion refused to give him the pleasure of seeing him scream or cry...Yet. Even as the firm leather painted his back with bloody lines from his shoulders down to his thighs, he would not break. He knew that this was why Axel loved to do this. He might say that Zexion looked pretty or he loved the noises and that Zexion loved being tied up and fucked like a little bitch (though the latter would never admit it). But Zexion was certain that Axel was determined to break him. His very demeanour gave off an air of superiority, arrogance, he had seen it happen before. He loved watching other bend to his will. And it was no secret that Zexion was a stubborn creature through and through. _All the more satisfying to break._

Fuck. What had he let himself in for, after all those casual fucks? Axel was good in bed, no doubt, but he had been playing with fire and was about to be burned.

As the whip fell again, all the bound male did was shiver a bit more, a low cry leaving him. Axel frowned and dropped the device, approaching his toy, his fingers almost tenderly training the bleeding welts and slashes, making Zexion whimper and try to pull away. He threaded the other hand into Zexion's hair, stroking his scalp and enjoying how surprisingly soft his hair was for a moment. The redhead leant forward then and kissed his pet's neck, watching and searching his face for a hint of pain, tears..._Something_. All he found was quiet defiance shining in the younger man's inky eyes. _Bastard_!

Axel growled and all the tenderness disappeared as he buried his sharp teeth into the area he had been so lovingly kissing and tugged sharply on his hair.

" I'll claim you yet, _bitch_."

He hissed in Zexion's ear, lips stained crimson by the blood. Gods, he truly was beautiful like this. An angel. If angels were regularly subject to ever changing bouts of torture and tenderness.

Zexion was abruptly dragged back to his painful reality when the chains were yanked off with more force than necessary and he collapsed to the cold, hard floor as his knees gave out beneath him, too shaky to support him, and each wound burned afresh. He was promptly forced onto his feet by the hand in his hair and pulled over to the only furniture in the room; a bed. It was a poor semblance of a bed, really just a thin mattress on the floor in the darkness. Zexion was more surprised to find that the previously blood stained sheets he remembered from the last time he had been in this position were gone. Perhaps Axel was more courteous than he thought...Or he just delighted in seeing the pure white stained anew.

He yelped as he was forced to kneel next to the bed, the uneven floor digging painfully into his knees. Seconds later he felt, rather than saw, Axel's cock being pressed demandingly against his lips. There wasn't much point in protesting, so he obediently opened his mouth, allowing the shaft to slide between his lips and deep into his mouth. Zexion sucked softly on the swollen flesh, rubbing his tongue against the head, tasting the familiar salty tang of Axel's precome.

It wasn't long before the redhead was thrusting his cock in and out of Zexion's mouth without a care for the latter's comfort, the rough pressure causing the smaller male's gag reflex to protest, not that Axel would grant him a reprieve, no matter how short.

A hand took a firm hold in his hair again, a large tuft of his fringe held tight between Axel's fingers as he forced his length further into that hot, moist cavern. Zexion knew he had to be close by now as he fought to keep from gagging or choking as the pyro's cock hit the back of his throat over and over.

Suddenly, Zexion's head was yanked back, the smaller male hissing in pain and blinking in confusion in the split second before instinctively closing his eyes as Axel came and hot semen splattered across his face. When he sensed Axel move away, he slowly and tentatively cracked his eyes open again, wiping the seed away from those orbs, not wishing to be blinded. He briefly anticipated a slap or some form of displeasure from Axel, but on receiving none continued to wiped the viscous white liquid from his face.

"Lick it off."

He jumped when that voice cut through the silence, looking up in surprise. Axel motioned towards the rapidly cooling substance staining Zexion's fingers.

"Do it."

Zexion sighed, sucking it off his digits without verbal complaint, ignoring the redhead's pleased snicker. He contemplated cleaning the rest of it off (honestly, he would rather deal with this humiliation than have to try to get rid of it once it had dried...) until Axel's voice rang out again.

"On the bed. Hands and knees, like the bitch you are."

He ignored the insult, scrambling to obey, knowing Axel hated tardiness, even if he himself was guilty of the same indiscretion. Wincing as wounds across his back were disturbed again as he gripped the threadbare sheets in preparation. He felt the mattress shift a little as Axel knelt behind him, forcing his legs further apart. He whimpered as a few of the whip marks were teased with a hot tongue before a finger was pushed into him. Zexion groaned quietly, feeling himself hardening, already somewhat aroused from the whipping and blow job. Axel chuckled, teasing the slate haired male's cock with his free hand.

"See? You really are a whore, Zexy."

The mentioned growled and shook his head. Being a masochist didn't make him a whore! Axel just snorted and continued purposefully teasing his prostate with the tip of a finger, relishing the sounds produced.

"You want this?"

He didn't need to ask, really, though Axel did anyway, sniggering and biting an ass cheek.

"Beg me."

Zexion's eyes widened and he gasped as another finger was added inside him, slamming roughly against his sweet spot. Damn Axel and his teasing to the seventh level of hell!

"P-please...Please fuck me..."

He knew what Axel liked to hear, thank the gods.

"I want your cock in me...Aaaah...Fuck me like the little slut I am.."

Degrading, but that was why Axel liked it. He liked seeing and hearing the usually proud Zexion humiliate himself willingly. Ah, if certain others ever saw this side of him...The horny deviant who was so easily teased into submission – a far cry from his usual haughty self.

Axel removed his fingers, Zexion wondered if he would be lucky enough for the redhead to use lube...Maybe not...The only substance easing the passage of the cock so suddenly pushed into him was a smear of precome and very cold saliva from the blow job.

It hurt. Of course it did, Zexion had expected nothing less. But he was unprepared for the rush of pain the initial entry brought each time. Even as it dulled after a second of agony, he cried out, his grip tightening on the sheets tenfold. He thought Axel said something, probably gloating over that cry, a sign of weakness, but the smaller man wasn't sure he cared to hear the other's smug voice any longer; all the taunts got so old.

Zexion wasn't given time to think over this in any depth (why would Axel be so gracious, anyway?) as the redhead pulled out almost all the way in order to sheathe himself completely again a second later, the first thrusts were slow, almost gentle, before Axel gained momentum and Zexion found himself bring shoved further into the bed as his body was slammed into. Nonsensical words and cries leaving him as Axel's cock slid roughly against his inner walls, knocking hard against his prostate and making him see stars and forget that the man giving him this intense ecstasy was an infuriating bastard that he made no secret of loathing outside these private meetings.

It was sadly fitting, he had realised, so fucking cliché, like some kind of perverted Juliet and Romeo, how Axel gave him this damn weakness to him, despite how Zexion knew without a doubt he hated the man. The least trustworthy person he knew, his Achilles Heel and he was powerless to save himself. He craved this pleasure, this drug like state, that no one else could give him. Nobody else set his senses on fire (no pun intended) and made him so dependant on them and the incredible feeling their mere presence brought to his heart void body. Every time he sat (somewhat awkwardly most days) in his seat in the meeting room and listened to Xemnas pontificate about Kingdom Hearts and their inability to feel, Zexion knew he was wrong. This was no longer physical pleasure, it went way deeper than that, invisible webs snaking into his blood then to his very core. This was not love. It never had been and it never would be. He and Axel would never be one of the happy, contented couple seen in restaurants and parks, no. He and Axel were bound to the bedroom, and this inertia. He knew, oh how he did know, that Axel was bad for him, that this dependency from one so stubbornly independent, was a sure recipe for disaster. But Axel, so like a wild fire, was consuming him so quickly and effectively that he wasn't sure he stood a chance of ever breaking free from him. Not that anything but logic told him him he _should_ anyway.

Zexion screamed again as Axel his his prostate, blood beading down his chin from trying to muffle the noises, but Axel was relentless, fucking him at a pace that would leave him sore for days, even if he had been granted lube and preparations. Another of Axel's quirks, he assumed (or the pyromaniac just liked fucking people to within an inch of their sanity), leaving obvious marks on those he had claimed. Zexion had a near endless supply of dark bruises and bite marks on his neck, collarbone and various other parts of his body since he had begun seeing Axel, many of which were visible even above his robes and drew awkward questions from the less subtle of his colleagues. He had soon become versed in the art of covering these marks whether with make up or a scarf in colder weather. Axel, of course, teased him for this but again, Zexion was simply beyond caring.

Axel had to be getting close by now, he could tell by how his flawless rhythm was getting sporadic and the subtle shaking of his hips. Well, he certainly hoped so anyway as he was unbearably close himself and he did not dare come before Axel; the one time he had dared, the redhead had proceeded to punish him so severely that he had made a point of keeping himself firmly under control.

As Zexion had predicted, he felt Axel shudder not too long later, thrusting deeper suddenly as he climaxed. Holding the smaller male still so he could feel every drop of hot semen filling him, Axel then pulled out, watching his seed leak down the other's thighs. Zexion tried to sneak a hand towards his own aching erection, only to have it rudely slapped away. He whimpered, gasping when Axel suddenly grabbed him and pulled him into his lap. He wrapped an arm around Zexion, his other reaching to grasp his cock. The redhead stroked him languidly until the other begged him in that beautifully croaking rasp of a voice. He quit teasing and in no time at all, Zexion came with a low cry, his back arching, falling against his tormentor's chest, panting harshly.

Zexion smiled a little despite the pain as Axel threaded his fingers into his hair, stroking and caressing gently. It was nothing like the rough tugging of earlier. _This_ made it all the more worth it. The redhead was always affectionate after their pain filled couplings, a side only Zexion saw and he treasured it. Axel rose with the younger male in his arms, carrying him out of the room and up to his bathroom, knowing he was likely too sore and tired to walk or portal.

"That was incredible...You've really come a long way, huh, Zexy?"

The named smiled a little and nodded in agreement before snuggling back into the pyromaniac's warm chest, utterly exhausted.

It was not ideal, but it worked, and the rest of the Organisation be damned he was going to continue with it. Until something better came along, the two were content to try and force their view of perfection out of each other.

**_(Post Script: Well, that was a milestone for me. Same as always, read, review and I'll try and update 50 Words ASAP...However I'm losing my inspiration as my GCSEs close in so..._**

**_After Jander Pannell left me an honestly squee worthy review, and my own feelings towards this piece, there will be at least a sequel, perhaps a short series if I can push it ^^)_**


	2. Bruise Pristine

_**(Author's Note: Okay, part two! Just in time for 6/4 day too! This takes a little look at the day after the first chapter and some relationship history. Enjoy!)**_

**Chapter Two: Bruise Pristine**

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**

_Cast a line with a velvet glove_

_Reading like an open book, in the hands of love_

_In this matrix, it's plain to see_

_It's either you or me._

* * *

Zexion was limping the next day. He had woken up in his bed that morning, naked and alone with the clothes stolen from the night before folded haphazardly on his desk. At least he was clean, he supposed, though he took a shower anyway to try and wash away the lingering clamminess of his skin and help soothe as many of his aches and pains as possible (though at the cost of aggravating the now scabbing over whip wounds). He limped down the breakfast after concealing the visible marks with ass little as make up as possible so as not to make it obvious. When he entered the kitchen, most of the other members present looked up briefly before going back to their previous engagements. The only lingering eyes were Axel's, a trace of smugness in them. And...Vexen...? Zexion felt himself blush lightly under the...Something in the Chilly Academic's look. He knew that look. It was the one Even had always given Ienzo when the latter had done something naïve. He was making a mistake...And he knew it.

He didn't even realise he had been stood there staring at Vexen all this time until Larxene pushed past him with more force than necessary. He fought to keep from crying out as the wounds on his back burned painfully. The Savage Nymph gave him a wicked smirk, evidently not having missed his briefly pained expression.

"Oh, sorry, Zexy, dear.."

She trilled with a mock apologetic smile.

"I didn't see you there; you're so small..."

Her remorseful smile regained its razor sharp edge and the Cloaked Schemer hissed in irritation.

"You would do well to look before you step then, Twelve."

Larxene laughed softly and patted him on the head, the condescending gesture making him inwardly seethe, though his eyes only narrowed a fraction to implicate his displeasure.

"Sure thing, Zexy."

She finished with a final pat.

"That's Six to you, Twelve."

He reminded her, surprised, but pleased nonetheless, that his voice betrayed nothing, not even his irritation.

Zexion stepped past her then, heading for the coffee machine, avoiding everyone's eyes, lest he freeze in place again. Ge felt a shiver travel up his spine when Axel snickered quietly.

"Nice one."

The Flurry hissed, for Zexion's ears only.

"This is a secret, remember? I thought you were good at hiding things, silly whore. Maybe you need another lesson, hmm?"

With that, the redhead stood and left the room, leaving Zexion stood there, trying to hide how much he was shaking.

It took an embarrassing long time for the shaken Cloaked Schemer to spoon sugar (Two, exactly) into a mug and most everyone else had left by the time he reached for the coffee pot. He jumped a foot when another hand closed around his, taking it from him gently. The illusionist looked up into acid green eyes, panicking briefly until his mind registered the absence of Axel's malicious spark. Vexen sighed, shaking his head and pouring the hot liquid into the mug.

"...What..?"

Zexion finally found his voice, watching the blond in confusion.

"You're shaking. I highly doubt you want more burns."

Vexen's reply had the Cloaked Schemer flushing slightly and looking away. The scientist gave him a sideways glance, pushing the mug and milk towards him.

"This has to stop, Ienzo."

He looked at him sharply then, eyes wide, quickly trying to smother the shock.

"I..I don't know what you're talking about!"

Vexen snorted.

"Bullshit. Do you not think we've noticed? You weren't always this good at hiding those marks...And you're limping. Again."

He stressed that last word, giving him a hard look, folding his arms across his chest.

"And don't think I didn't see what happened when Twelve touched you. What ever Eight is doing to you. It has to stop. I cannot believe you've let it go on this long."

Zexion sighed, turning his attention back to his coffee, pouring milk into it until the black liquid turned a rich brown.

"Nothing is happening between myself and Eight."

He replied firmly, stirring until the colour was even. One. Two. Three.

"Zexion..."

Vexen shook his head.

"Do not take me for a fool, he looks more smug when you're limping, not to mention those unexplained burns."

The Cloaked Schemer blushed, looking away to hide it.

"Please..."

That made him looked back, chewing his bottom lip slightly.

"Vexen...I don't-"

"For yourself and your well being. You deserve better."

That made anger flare inside him.

"Oh, like who?"

The Academic shook his head, his gaze not wavering.

"No. Don't even think of going down that road. What happened then, is in the past, Ienzo. It was far too dangerous-"

"I'm not a child any more!"

Zexion glared at the other male, not happy about this at all.

"And last time I checked, you have no call over me, so leave me to my own matters."

He expected Vexen to persist, it was in his nature to pursue things to the bitter end. What Zexion didn't expect was for the Academic to sighed, exasperated and walk towards the door, pausing briefly.

"Very well then, Zexion, but I think you know as well as I do that you're letting him destroy you. It would be a pity..."

Their eyes met one last time before Vexen walked away, leaving Zexion alone in the kitchen with his coffee.

Well, shit.

The Cloaked Schemer leant against the pillows on his bed, staring into the dregs of his mug contemplatively. Maybe Vexen had a point...He had fought before...Never succumbed without a fight...Of course, Axel hadn't been as cruel then...Or had he? Zexion couldn't remember. All of their meetings were so alike and their nature blurred the lines between them. He laughed softly to himself, maybe Vexen was right...But then, as much as he would like to pretend, he knew nothing of this situation...And of course, the Schemer couldn't be sure that he wasn't in this for his own ends. Even if had been the one to-

No.

He couldn't think about before. That would not help this situation whatsoever. He didn't need to worsen things for himself.

It had scared him at first. The delight Axel had taken in causing him pain. Of course, quickly he had learned to enjoy it.

It had disgusted him, too. Him. A masochist? How utterly inconvenient! In time though, Axel had obliterated those worries. As he had all of Zexion's other inhibitions.

Perhaps he had simply slipped into apathy since the Flurry of Dancing Flames had ceased to hurt him solely for pleasure, but for his own sadistic needs.

Yes, apathy. Complete and utter indifference to what ever Axel's sick little mind dreamed up.

Well, it could be worse, he mused. If he was still as vehemently proud and stubborn as he had been when Axel had first coaxed him into bed, he imagined the redhead would have gotten nastier faster, instead of the steady descent. Though he had remained as such for a long time before Axel broken him down partially. The one time he directly disobeyed Axel had been the beginning of that, he was sure...

"_Trust me, Zex, c'mon..."_

"_I don't know...I really would rather not...Ow! What the hell do you think you're doing!?"_

_Axel smirked as he pulled away, watching blood swell into fat drops and slide down the Cloaked Schemer's pale skin. Zexion watched it too, sighing softly and closing his eyes._

"_Fine, but I swear if you even think of.."_

"_Yeah yeah, don't surprise you, got it."_

_The Flurry grinned at the other's unhappy look, undressing him quickly and positioning him on his hands and knees, sitting back to regard this. Zexion just saw it as another way for the redhead to try and humiliate him._

"_Hmm, spread your legs a bit more...Yeah, just like that...Damn, this is natural for you, slut."_

_Zexion rolled his eyes, doing as told, wishing he would hurry the hell up and just fuck him...What he didn't expect was a length of black (well, it was dark coloured as far as he could tell, anyway) cloth to be tied tightly around his head, effectively robbing him of his sight. A blindfold. Wonderful._

"_Brace yourself."_

_He frowned, trying to grasp why Axel had said that before he felt him kneel behind him, having just enough time to do just that before Axel pushed in. Without preparations or lubricant, it hurt. A lot._

_Axel snickered at the small pained cry that left Zexion's lips._

"_Beautiful."_

_He purred in his ear, beginning to move, drowning any angry retorts in small moans and whines as he made sure to hit that magic little spot._

"_Don't even think of coming before I do."_

_Of course, Zexion had disregarded that threat as empty. How wrong he had been..._

_No sooner had he climaxed and the happy fuzz surrounding everything was rudely interrupted by a short, hard slap. He had snapped back into full consciousness in time to catch the full blow of the back of Axel's hand._

"_Little bitch!"_

_Axel's voice hissed in his ear as he was dragged...Somewhere..._

The redhead had really lain into him that night. He actually lost consciousness a few times before he was through and the result the following morning was so bad, he couldn't have gone down to breakfast without substantial use of his powers over illusions.

He had had to face Vexen later though when he realised that at least two of his fingers were broken and he didn't like the colour his ribs were going...

He had a total of three broken fingers and two cracked ribs. Not to mention he needed seven stitches for the various cuts he had sustained.

Vexen had been furious and hadn't believed his cover story at all. No training match would have gone far enough for that amount of damage, he had said.

His mood had considerably worsened when Zexion had reminded him that he had come for medical help, not a lecture. Neither was it Vexen's job to find out how he had sustained such injuries.

Of course, had Even not acted as he had, Vexen might have been more involved. Or rather, Zexion would have never had a reason to accept Axel's offer. But then, none of the Elders had expected to find such a Nobody, just as they had never expected to lose their hearts through their own foolishness.

Aeleus and Ienzo had always been close. From the day Ienzo had appeared at Ansem's castle, alone and over cautious, Aeleus had taken the boy under his wing and the two still shared that brotherly relationship. Even and Ienzo, however, had gone much, much further than that. It was around him that Ienzo had started to finally come out of his shell and demonstrate why he had been chosen as an apprentice.

Over time, their bond grew stronger and Even had begun to notice the signs of attraction from not just himself, but Ienzo as well. As the (quite a bit) older one, he took it upon himself to try and nip this in the bud, but nothing deterred the younger apprentice.

Eventually, it couldn't be ignored any longer and after a rather awkward first kiss (Well, neither of them was experienced) something deeper emerged, much to Even's chargrin.

It had gone on for nearly six months. It was a stable, decent though utterly secret relationship. If word got out that Even was having such dealings with another male, let alone one who wasn't even past the age of consent, both of their careers would have been ruined.

It was after Ienzo had lost his virginity to Even that the latter realised how far he was letting this go. Too far, in his opinion. As much as he liked Ienzo (given time, it wouldn't have been hard for him to have loved him), he couldn't allow himself to corrupt him like this.

Of course, Ienzo didn't listen, convinced he knew exactly what he wanted and well, when the boy spoke so passionately...It was hard to disbelieve him.

It ended when Even accidentally left a mark on Ienzo's collar bone that Ansem spied one day. Ienzo had laughed it off, a master of deception even then, making up something about some girl. Even knew then that this had to end; it was getting harder to hide it all the time.

Ienzo didn't take to it well.

His practical side saw the logic, but then so heart driven, he mostly saw it as rejection.

Their relationship had been strained ever since. Once they had lost their hearts moreso. Ansem wasn't around any more. And the other Elders could care less (Sure, Xigbar would poke fun at it, but that was nothing new).

But this time, Ienzo's Nobody wasn't about to make the first move. Zexion had waited and bided his time until Vexen finally broke. He wasn't going to do all the work...

Then as time wore on, the hints stopped, and soon Vexen only saw the Cloaked Schemer at meals or when his presence was required in the laboratories.

Vexen had believed he would have all the time in the worlds to get his head straight and do things right.

Then Axel had arrived in a whirl of smug grins and impossibly red hair.

Thirty-seven days and six hours, forty-three minutes and eight seconds exactly after, Zexion appeared in the laboratory with hand print burns over his wrists.

Ienzo had moved on.

_**(Post Script: There was meant to be some VexZex smut in there but it just didn't fit in the end...**_

_**I have over ten chapters (yes, that's right) planned for this. Here's to hoping I make it!)**_


	3. Before You Were Mine

_**Author's Note: Sorry this took so damn long! I had the first two parts sitting in a word document for gods know how long .**_

_**Some smut here and EvenIenzo fluff. Enjoy and review!)**_

**Chapter Three: Before You Were Mine**

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* * *

**_  
I feel you in my heart,_

_And I don't even know you__,_

Now we're saying

Bye, bye, bye

_

* * *

  
_

Duck. Parry. Dodge. Slash.

Axel smirked to himself as his opponent let out a short cry of pain after one of his chakrams made contact and grazed bone, judging from the faint but obvious grating noise.

"Had enough yet?"

He jeered, catching the spiked weapon as it bounced off a wall in the training arena. Saix glared at him, panting softly and gripping his bleeding side.

"Not nearly."

Was the growled response. Axel's smirk widened into a likeness of the Cheshire Cat.

"Have it your way then."

Ever quick on his feet, he pounced, blocking what should have been a severely damaging hit from that huge claymore and bounding away, the Lunar Diviner getting more and more hell bent on wiping that shit eating grin from the redhead's face.

"Nyah, you'll have to try harder than thaaaat!"

Axel sing-sang, having the time of his life now he had one up on the berserker. Their last sparring match had gone too far in Saix's favour for the Flurry of Dancing Flames' liking.

Zexion had paid for his frustration.

The rational part of him had intervened, reasoning that it wasn't _Zexion's_ fault, neither was being more impatient and demanding going to improve his chances against the Lunar Diviner any time soon.

But the human part of him begged to differ.

If he couldn't take out the pent up energy in the battle field, he would commit it to his carnal needs.

Axel cursed and launched both chakrams at Saix in retaliation for catching the blunt of his weapon in the gut, mildly winding him.

"Now who's laughing, Eight?"

The berserker's smug tone make Axel fume and he would have simultaneously proved that human spontaneous combustion _did_ exist while also winning this once and for all were his powers not blocked.

Stupid bloody physical training. If only he could use his element...

***

Axel growled angrily as he picked himself off the floor again. Turns out Saix had more stamina than he had anticipated, or rather, hoped...

The berserker dispelled his claymore and straightened up, smirking infuriatingly,

"Perhaps more practice is needed."

He told Axel, far too smugly for the latter's liking, before disappearing through a portal, leaving the Flurry to limp off to get his various aches and pains checked out, he was certain he'd broken something...

Axel found Zexion easily, a quick smirk and a quiet order and the Schemer dropped what he had previously been doing in favour of tending to Axel. He delighted in the way the illusionist's hands shook as he cleaned and bandaged the worse cuts and scrapes he had sustained.

"I...I think you've possibly broken your wrist.."

Zexion murmured the words quietly as he looked over the fast swelling appendage, a faint smile twisting the corner of his lips. Axel scowled, grabbing a handful of his hair with his uninjured arm.

"I can still punish you bitch, so don't you dare think of trying anything smart..."

Zexion whimpered at the hissed threat as he tried to squirm out of the merciless grip, wincing as the redhead gave his hair another tug for good measure before releasing him.

"I..Can't...."

The Schemer bit his lip, watching Axel's expression darken.

"I'm not a doctor! Go see Vexen!"

Axel snorted at the squeak he let out when he raised his hand, slapping him anyway, might as well...

He got up then, leaving Zexion all but cowering on the floor as he went down to the laboratories to see Vexen. Reluctant; he would have to deal with the half hidden glares and muttered threats from the Academic. Psh, if the scientist was still hung up on Zexion, he could forget it. Axel had claimed him and he knew that the Schemer wouldn't challenge that - he had made very sure of that. Although he could be stupidly disobediant (honestly, Axel was beginning to believe that the illusionist was more of a masochist than he had first imagined) and the consequences of this had lead Vexen to believe he was an abusive bastard.

Axel was firm, but fair, of course, Zexion just happened to always manage to strain his last nerve...

***

Vexen looked up when the door to the laboratories banged open and the Flurry of Dancing Flames limped in, holding his right arm. The blond allowed himself a smirk as he stood.

"Ah, good afternoon, Eight, how can I help?"

Axel's eyes narrowed at that smug voice. Bastard...Delighting in his pain...One day he would pay...

"Sparring."

Was all he answered, keeping his fantasies of murder to himself, indicating his injured arm. He sat in the chair the Academic indicated, hissing and swearing as the limb was inspected. Damnit, he knew that much pressure and force wasn't needed...But he had to stay silent, knowing that protesting would likely result in a doubled effort to make this worse.

"Thanks."

Vexen raised an eyebrow at the terse word, watching the redhead stretch and flex his arm, checking over the solid cast on his wrist.

"Be careful with that arm for the next few weeks. No sparring or fighting."

He paused, eyes narrowing.

"And don't make the mistake of trying to use one hand when two are needed..."

There was something in that look that Axel really didn't like...

"Oh? Like what?"

He asked, challenge lacing his words.

"Now, Eight, you're a smart boy. Work it out...I'm sure you can abstain from..Certain activities..."

Axel laughed. Gods, he really is insane...Vexen thought, swallowing a little.

"What difference does it make to you whether I put a dent in my very active sex life or not? Or...Maybe it's _where_ that sex life comes from that bothers you..?"

At the Academic's sneer, Axel's smirk widened.

"Oooh, you do care-"

"You have no right to touch him!"

Vexen regretted those words the instant after he'd said them, watching the look on the redhead's face contort with sadistic glee.

"Oh, but I _do_, he comes to me of his own free will and I'm sure he would tell you that he's all _mine_."

"Simply indulging in carnal pleasures does not give you claim to him."

"The same to you, old man."

The Chilly Academic hissed at the insult, an unseen hand clenching into a fist. If he weren't at such an elemental disadvantage he would give Number Eight more than a broken wrist to worry over...

"When he comes to his senses-"

"Bah! Stop deluding yourself! He might have been an innocent little boy when you fucked him, but he's since become a filthy little whore..._My_ filthy little whore. And if you attempt to disrupt that, it won't just be you getting...Painful repercussions."

Vexen silently seethed as the Flurry of Dancing Flames sauntered away. That little bastard! How dare he threaten him...And...Those disgusting lies about Zexion...

At least, Vexen hoped that they were lies...But...The mind was a malleable thing...Always able to adapt and accept new situations...

Damnit, Zexion, this is your forte, how could you have been such a fool?

***

One of the first things Even had noticed about the new boy was the way he would fold an arm across his chest and rest the elbow of the other on it so his hand rested against his lower face when he was thinking hard. Braig had joked that the kid should grow a beard or goatee to stroke...Even had simply thought that the action had been utterly adorable...

The second thing he learned was that the confidence Ienzo demonstrated (almost to the point of arrogance) was largely a front, used to prevent anyone seeing him as vulnerable. Ienzo hated being a victim.

Without even thinking about it, he was compiling a mental list of the youngest apprentice's quirks and personality traits. How his silver tongue could render another speechless, his seemingly boundless sense of curiosity and how he sometimes let traits of his true age show through...He had an unquenchable love for sweet things, Even recalled all too well the image of Ienzo licking sugar from his fingers after another baking session...And his body's most disturbing reaction to said scene...

The young scientist was a damnable tease without meaning to be. Extremely frustrating for his sexually and socially stunted colleague.

It had taken nearly a year of coffee breaks before Even began noticing Ienzo watching him, or those certain teasing actions were occurring more and more...In his presence anyway...

He had dismissed it as nothing but a teenage crush, for Ienzo anyway, he was not going to defile him like that if he could help it...

Then Braig had to pick up on the tension and all but set them up, making sure the two of them were sent off to collect field notes and it is awfully hard to ignore your very attractive and underage fellow scientist when you're sharing a tent in the middle of nowhere.

Even really should have done something the morning they woke up all but cuddling, some how having subconsciously wormed their way towards the other. For all his agonising, he had just laughed it off and spent a large part of that day not looking the boy's way.

Then, like a bad cliché, like those stupid films Braig insisted on watching (even if only to call the main female protagonist a whore or something similar), they ended up kissing.

Ienzo had demanded to know why Even had been avoiding him so pointedly. Part of the boy was irritated, as it made their work harder, and the other part...Upset...Concerned...Worried he had done something wrong...

Even had lost control the moment he had met those eyes, tugging the younger male close and pressing their mouths together in an awkward kiss that he had been shocked to find Ienzo returning. Passion. Inexperience. The two made a strange but addictive feeling in both of them as the two scientists had lain down on the earth, so grounding and steadying to the dizzying sensations sparking between their bodies like static.

Warnings should have blared in his ears as he touched and kissed the boy's pale, hairless skin, drinking in every sharp moan and breathy cry that floated from moist parted lips.

Lips that were soon wrapped aroud his length, small pink tongue running over and around him. Experimenting like the good little scientist he was.

When he entered him, Even liked to think that the whole universe had frozen in place, the scenery floating away and everything becoming a dark void except for the beautiful creature beneath him, calling his name in a way that made his mouth go dry and kindle a fire within him.

He knew it had hurt the boy; he was so small and, _mercy_, so very _tight_, but the intense feelings the simple action brought smothered any negative connotations.

One thrust blurred into another, nails scratching down his back as his own parted the skin on Ienzo's hips as they spiralled up together before falling abruptly like damned sinners.

They had stayed that way for a long time. Hours, seconds, it didn't matter. The illusions of time faded away as that small body was nestled against him, soft breaths falling against his collarbone.

Even did not regret it for a moment.

Vexen did not either.

He had held that painfully fragile boy in his arms, watched him grow up a little more all the time, maturing slowly into a young man. Still adorable as the seeds of stunning handsomeness began to bloom.

The two things that Vexen did regret were prying Ienzo from himself, even if for his own good, the pain he had seen in those dark eyes could have killed him...

The other, was letting his (still his, _always_ his) pure angel be tainted by the devil himself.

Zexion had retained Ienzo's fragility, his desire to be needed and wanted...What ever the cost.

***

Axel had noticed it after he had first met Zexion. The way the boy's eyes lingered on the blond man, the way the Academic did the same when the former wasn't looking. He had known enough to sense a past between them. But he didn't care.

Once he had set a goal, he would reach it, beating every obstacle in his path.

At first, Zexion had been hesitant. Stiff and stubborn. He would complain if Axel did something he didn't like, to the point of even leaving if he were so irritated with the redhead's inability to meet his specific needs.

But slowly, his submissive nature began to show through and Axel began to take liberties then. Small liberties. One at a time until the Schemer expected nothing but to serve Axel's needs before his own.

What ever Zexion had done with Vexen it was obvious that neither had known how to encourage this delightful side of him.

Axel wanted to destroy everything Zexion had been before he had been his. He was young, still malleable, like clay in his hands. He would shape the boy to his own needs.

What better way to demonstrate his power?

And maybe...If he could prove this to Xemnas...He might get a better ranking for someone of his great skill.

If not, well, he would never object to a warm body that would do his bidding.

And especially when said body could transform itself into anything he wished.

Zexion would soon realise that his self control was an illusion too, and once the Cloaked Schemer was his true puppet....Then things would get even more interesting...

And no one, not even Vexen could prevent this now.

***

Vexen rubbed his face as he left the laboratories several hours after Axel's departure. All those chemicals couldn't be good for his head. He paused, hearing a quiet scream that shook him to his core.

"I'm sorry, Ienzo. I've failed you..."


	4. The Ultimate Fling

**_(Author's Note: Finally, I am done with this! You have no idea how long it took to get the last three quarters done. The muses are being uncooperative -_-._**

**_Anywho, on with the show!)_**

**Part 4: The Ultimate Fling**

**

* * *

  
**

_Did I act like a fool 'cause I didn't know what to do_

_When you gave me just a little bit more than I bargained for_

_A little too much in my hands_

_When my hands are tied_

_

* * *

  
_

"So, you and Eight will scout the perimeter before observing and documenting the Heartless activity there and collect notes on any new species you find."

Zexion nodded, he had been sent on this sort of scouting mission countless times before and was confident in his abilities to complete it successfully. Even if Axel was being sent with him...Purely because there was rumour of more powerful Heartless being present in this world and Zexion's physical combat skills left a lot to be desired. Although, once Axel sets foot in that world, the Heartless will be the least of your worries, whispered a voice in his head that sounded all too much like Vexen for the Schemer's liking.

He was dismissed from Xemnas's office a moment later and Zexion headed down to his room to pack a few necessities as it was a two day mission. He groaned when he realised that the first aid kit was running low. That meant a trip to the laboratories...Which meant having to see Vexen...

The Cloaked Schemer sighed, straightening up and going down there. Might as well get it over with...

Vexen looked up when he heard the door, smiling a little when he saw the younger Nobody,

"Ah, Six, what can I do for you?"

As in, are you going to finally admit that Axel is ruining you and you need help?

No such luck.

"I just need a fresh first aid kit. I have a mission."

Vexen sighed, his non existent heart sinking.

"Very well....What are the mission details?"

It was a double edged question. On one hand, he would be able to make a better judgement on what would be more helpful to the Cloaked Schemer, and find out who was accompanying him.

He didn't anticipate the answer he got.

"Eight!? The Superior is sending Eight with you? Is he insane?"

Zexion sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose,

"I didn't ask for your opinion, Vexen..."

The older man rolled his eyes, grasping the other's shoulder,

"Don't be stupid, it's going to get dangerous if he's there..."

He winced, trying to shake off that hand, the Chilly Academic's fingers digging painfully into fresh bruises,

"Even...Let go..."

"Not until you listen to me, damnit!"

"You're hurting me!"

Vexen blinked, taking in the pained expression on Zexion's face. He sighed, slowly relinquishing his grip, resting his hand there lightly,

"I'm sorry."

The Schemer sighed, "It's okay, Vexen...Now please...Just give me that first aid kit."

Looking for all the worlds as if that were the last thing he wanted to do, Vexen gave the boy the small kit, watching him leave as a sense of all-consuming dread and guilt washed over him. He prayed to what ever gods that were watching and would listen to a Nobody that Zexion would return in more or less the condition he left in.

But even as he did so, the ever logical and pessimistic scientist knew that things rarely went as he hope they would.

Life just had too many independent variables.

* * *

Zexion bit back another curse as he caught a nearby tree, trying to keep his balance. The terrain of this world was horrendous; small plants covered the ground making it impossible to see roots and other hazards that were continuously trying to cause the limping Schemer to make the source of said limp even more painful.

Steadying himself, the illusionist pressed on, keeping up with Axel as best he could, knowing that the other wouldn't much care that it was his goddamn fault he couldn't walk properly. For the first time in a while Zexion was considering the words of that small part of his mind that reminded him of how badly this relationship was affecting his life.

Sure, normally when one enters into a serious relationship, things will change. You might start cleaning more often, or cooking certain things less, keeping different hours...All normal changes and sacrifices people made for the ones they loved.

Finding moving around increasingly difficult, having to spend at least half an hour each day cleaning and bandaging various injuries all while trying to hide all of this and comply with your lover's increasingly demanding wants...Was just not healthy or normal.

Zexion was not about to question the relationship, though. This was just Axel's way of dealing with having no true emotions. That was what it had to be. Another way for the redhead to try and prove to himself and the worlds that he truly existed, heart or no.

It was the same with Larxene's increasing zeal and thirst for killing, Marluxia's power lust and so forth.

And who was Zexion to deny him that?

"Keep up, bitch, I don't want my little domestic getting eaten."

The Cloaked Schemer did not notice his automatic flinch at the voice, or the way his whole body tensed up and the nervous feeling he got until Axel gave a curt, somewhat pleased nod and continued. Zexion relaxed once Axel's eyes were no longer filing away at him, traipsing quicker after him and trying to concentrate on not falling over, rather than his rebellious thoughts.

* * *

Zexion shifted again, trying to get comfortable; the ground was unforgivingly hard, even through the thick material of his sleeping bag. It seemed he had only just found an acceptable position when fingers were digging into his shoulder, tugging him up and into a harsh kiss. He groaned; tired and sore, he really wasn't in the mood,

"Axel, please, not tonight..."

There was a pause, then a yelp silenced the chirping crickets and animal calls. Axel glared down at Zexion, his eyes shining in the dark and reminding the smaller male too much of a tiger for his liking. He raised his hand again, daring his prey to try to escape. This was a game. Cat and mouse.

"That's not your decision to make, I want a little fun."

The Cloaked Schemer opened his mouth to protest, then closed it again, sighing and closing his eyes and allowing himself to move away from the warm blankets automatically, letting cold fingers tug at his clothing and bare his skin to the air. If he was lucky, no mosquitoes would bite him...

A soft grunt was all the response Axel got when he shoved the boy into a nearby tree, using his free hand to undo his trousers, freeing his hardening cock. He rubbed the organ over Zexion's smooth skin, hissing at the feeling, not caring about the pearly smudges he was leaving.

Zexion braced himself against the rough bark, balling a hand into a fist and biting down on it, waiting. Anxiety. Anticipation. A touch of fear as Axel's hand travelled down his hip. He knew Axel was toying with him, trying to catch him off guard.

It worked. To a certain extent. A slightly surprised and mostly muffled cry alerted the nearby life to a male asserting his dominance.

The illusionist hissed and whimpered as Axel fucked him mercilessly, trying vainly to stop his front from being roughly scraped against the bark, grating against his bare skin. He felt blood on his fingers from where he was gripping the tree, digging his nails in and trying to ground himself. A hot tongue slithered down his neck, bite marks were refreshed and made anew. Zexion closed his eyes, steadied his breathing and tried to separate himself from the pain. He just...Did not want this.

A gasp. Loud and shuddering, broke the rhythm of grunts and moans. Axel's eyes narrowed as he fumbled around the supple flesh, ceasing his other motions. Zexion...Wasn't hard. At all. What ever new notions his bitch was having, it was not going to last....

The Schemer lay still against the tree, eyes wide and his whole body tensed, hardly daring to breathe now. It seemed like no time had passed before he hit the ground, hard, lurching forward partially as the blow Axel had delivered to his gut had him forcing down nausea. He blinked back stars, looking up at the dark figure above him,

"Axel...I..I'm sorry! Don't! Please!"

He was begging, pleading the neophyte, working in autopilot to try and escape or protect himself from what he knew all too well was coming. He raised an arm, crying out when the Flurry grasped that wrist, hard, twisting the limb viciously before descending upon him.

He was quite sure he blacked out several times during the following snippet of his life. The events were disjointed like bad memories even as they happened. Zexion felt like time had slowed down for him, every movement to dodge was futile and just made him more vulnerable. He was all too happy to let his mind float away from himself for now, though, there was less pain that way. But Axel denied him even that. A sharp pain in his abdomen, the familiar weapon glinting in the meagre light.

Zexion looked from the charkram up to Axel, slowly, oh so slowly. He felt...Nothing. No disbelief....No sudden lust to live...Just...Nothing...He watched the other man, saw his lips moving, or was that just his vision playing tricks? Threats fell on deaf ears and after what seemed an age, the tip of the blade was withdrawn and dispelled, the hand grasping his throat (when had that gotten there?) was removed and Zexion hit the floor once more, limp like a rag doll.

Axel might have re-entered him shortly after that, the illusionist wasn't sure. He simply stared up at the few stars visible above the canopy of trees and cloud covering. It would probably rain soon, he realised, his thoughts slow and disjointed. He saw green eyes once more, angry, annoyed, then the blessed relief of darkness and nothing.

* * *

Zexion awoke to the smell of rain and diluted blood. He had no idea how long he had been unconscious but from the amount of light, he guessed it was about midday. He tried to work out how many hours that would have been, but found it difficult to think that hard. He closed his eyes again, inhaling quietly. Staying conscious and aware was beyond him at that moment.

* * *

When Zexion woke again, it was getting dark once more. He slowly tried to sit up, making a strangled noise at the heavy rush of dizziness it brought. He shifted onto his side, retching. He was hardly surprised when nothing came up. The last time he had eaten had been nearly twenty-four hours ago, after all. He lay still for a while until he fought up the courage and strength to try again, slowly. He looked around, he was in the same clearing he and Axel had stopped in but...There was no sign of Axel. His clothing and sleeping bag were in a heap a few feet to his right and his uniform coat had been slung haphazardly over his lower half.

Looking down at himself, he realised he must be in a sorry state; dried blood was smeared over his skin, weaving between darkening splotches of purples and reds and yellows, the hues running into each other like a sodden canvas. He shivered, realising that the ground was wet. It must have rained while he had been out...

Glancing back around the empty area, he wondered when Axel had left...Though those thoughts were cut short when his vision blurred again. But not by an injury this time...Zexion lifted a hand to his face, expecting to find blood and instead found tears. He snorted weakly, flopping back down, not caring how much it hurt.

He, Zexion, Number Six in the Organisation, The Cloaked Schemer; proud and vastly intelligent...Was laid battered, bruised and crying in some godsforsaken world. Abandoned.

The strange thing was, although he could not find a cause or reason for the tears, they just would not stop. And so, like his sorry state of affairs, he simply let it be.

If he were to die here, then so be it. He could not return like this...Could not face the humiliation.

It was over.

_**(Post Script: Yes, violent and depressing. I'm sorry! Buuuut, it doesn't end there! No sir!**_

_**But you'll have to wait for the next installment, I'm afraid!)**_


	5. Insomnia

_**(Author's Note: Whew, I haven't touched this since the end of September but tonight a muse just pounced on me and I had to finish it at last! I hope you all had a good Christmas and Happy New Year to you all. This chaoter is dedicated to Jander Panell who is leaving fanfiction after Tainted By Beautiful is finished. Sad times =[)**_

**Part 5 - Insomnia**

* * *

_All the bright-eyed choke on ambition,_

_And the old folks circle their graves,_

_And the young ones are busy destroying their names_

_And you're still just wasting away._

_

* * *

  
_

This world was horribly lonely, Zexion mused to himself, even with the sounds of countless creatures around him, he had never felt so very alone in all his life. Perhaps it was because he was slowly realising that he had pushed away all his former friends so that he could dedicate his free time to Axel and now that Axel had finally grown bored with him...He couldn't very well rely on those he had so carelessly tossed away to come to his aid now.

Not that he wanted any of them to see him now; admitting he was wrong was something neither Ienzo nor Zexion liked to do. Even when it was painfully obvious. He simply got too involved in everything he did, though he often feigned indifference he worked diligently and passionately. He always had. This had been no different.

Of course, when one put all of that into something for it to simply disintergrate before their eyes....Well, it left an empty feeling behind. A hollow knowledge that no matter how much heart and soul you put into something, if it was not right, no amount of blood and tears would make it work.

Just another of life's cold, hard lessons that could not be properly learned until you experience it first hand.

Since finally regaining full consciousness an hour or so previously, Zexion had managed to move to a drier place under a tree and tug his coat on, anything else was just too painful to even try.

He was using this current inertia to think over his situation properly now that he had realised that really, Axel didn't much care about him. He really should not have gotten involved with the temperamental redhead...But there was no point in crying over spilled milk.

If he returned to The World That Never Was...He would have to face up to this failure and the consequences of his misjudgement. Two things that he honestly, truly, wanted to avoid...Though he wasn't sure he could survive long on his own, weakened as he currently was and completely unequipped for becoming a renegade.

He knew he was fabulating, he was too passive to really dersert the Organisation. He simply was not meant for living rough and even if he did have laying low and hiding down to an art, Zexion knew it would not be enough to avoid the retribution that would doubtlessly come for him.

The Cloaked Schemer preferred to avoid unnecessary trouble and having his comrades at his heels like the hounds of hell was not something that appealed whatsoever to him.

***

Several worlds away, Vexen was sent reeling after a solemn Lexaeus had informed him that Axel had returned from his mission, without Zexion, and that the Flurry of Dancing Flames had implied that the illusionist had defected. Both Nobodies knew that this was completely inconceivable of their young colleague.

Something was definitely amiss here. Vexen suspected foul-play on Axel's part, without a doubt.

But, as Lexaeus reminded him, his prejudice towards the redhead would lead him straight to this conclusion. But, even with giving it a good long think, the scientist still resoulted believed that Axel marooning the Schemer was far more credible than Zexion acting so out of character.

It was endlessly frustrating that there was nothing he could do for another twenty-four hours, until Number Six was officially missing, considered a traitor. Vexen knew he would need to get to Zexion first, before any of the more zealous members got there and decided to jump the gun with delivering his comeuppance.

Or, he could simply leave before Zexion was declared missing in action and return with him...

Vexen allowed himself a small smirk, standing and going to begin preparations for his own little act of mutiny. It would serve Xemnas right for being so distrusting and believeing that underhanded Flurry...

Honestly, he had thought Xehanort had known Ienzo better.

"No matter, with any luck this will be resolved by morning."

Vexen smiled a little more, saying the words aloud made it sound more concrete that he would succeed. Truthfully, he would rather be doing anything else at all than this. Nightmare fuelling images continuously flashed across his thoughts, depicting the state he would find Zexion in.

Stop it, relax, he's a resourceful young man, he will be fine.

But then...Why hadn't he returned?

Maybe Axel gave him a...Rather embarrassing injury...?

Vexen pulled a face, while it should not surprise him in the least, he was still rather prude about...Those matters...Especially when they did not pertain to himself.

Would Zexion even be grateful? True, their relationship had only soured due to Axel...And he had to admit ending it to stop Ansem's suspicions had played more than a minor part but he hoped the Cloaked Schemer would not see this as an insult to his ability to look after himself, simply concern for his well being on Vexen's part.

He would never easily admit it aloud but...Even had loved his younger colleague, and while Vexen did not have the heart to truthfully admit to the same sentiment now, the memory of the feeling remained. The terrible ache in his empty chest filling in the gaps where emotion should be.

Well, it was better to feel pain than nothing at all they said.

***

I must be losing my mind.

That thought didn't bother Zexion half as much as it should have done. Logic told him that it was the lack of food and the exposure to the wet and cold that was playing havoc on his already abused head, but he had become very good at ignoring the rational part of his mind that it was barely a whisper amidst a louder chorus of voices now.

Day had come and gone once again and the battered Cloaked Schemer had not moved from his spot among the roots of some ancient tree. _The strong sheltering the weak_. He chuckled a little at the thought, the sound thin and raspy. He barely noticed how he shivered despite the heat, his hair matted against his skin from the humidity and consequent sweat.

The sky swiftly grew dark and the air hung in a suffocating vice all around until Zexion lost consciousness once more.

***

Daybreak. Sunbeams filtered through the trees, awakening the wayward Nobody. Dull eyes scanned the clearing automatically, searching for friend, foe, he no longer could tell one from the other. Zexion was content to allow himself to pass right out again when he felt a twinge of _something_. A voice cut through the harsh tongues that rang in his ears, one he had not heard for many years. He lifted his head, staring straight ahead and watched as a figure entered the clearing, the bright morning light reflecting from light hair to form the illusion of an angelical glow.

And Zexion was suddenly so very ashamed of what he had become, trying to look away and somehow hide from the gaze that mirrored his own, breaking through all his tricks and defences and just seeing him for what he was: naked, alone, abused, lost. A fool.

_Don't be afraid._

He winced at the voice, opening his mouth to reply and wincing as just a scratchy, airy sound came. He swallowed, tried again, the word feeling strange and alien at first, but then rolling off his tongue with ease as if slipping on an old jumper,

"Mother?"

He felt more than saw the smile, desperately trying to move for the first time in days as she approached, his motions stilling when a cool hand brushed his hair out of his face,

"I-I'm sorry...So sorry....I didn't know! I never...I never meant for...For any of this to happen..."

Zexion inwardly cringed at how pathetic he sounded. The woman giggled in response, leaning down to kiss his brow, the tips of her hair, the same hue she had bestowed upon him, tickling his cheeks.

_Don't be afraid, Ienzo, my son._

She pulled away then, turning to leave.

_No no no_! He struggled, trying to force his limbs to move,

"Mother! Wait!"

Frantic, panicked, he only succeeded in falling flat on his face. Fingers digging deep holes in the earth as he scrambled to right himself, Zexion cared for nothing but getting up and following his parent.

He finally managed to sit up, falling back against the tree almost instantly, his efforts exhausting what little energy he had had left.

"Don't! Don't leave me Mother!"

He screamed after her as he watched the glowing figure grow smaller and smaller.

Zexion gave up, crying hopelessly.

"I'm sorry...Please...Forgive me....Please..."

_We all make mistakes, Ienzo, there is nothing to forgive._

The Cloaked Schemer was shocked out of his misery by a gentle voice. He tried to look up as he was suddenly lifted off the ground, finding the movement impossible. Then he was being held close to someone's breast. He nestled closer, the soft fabric familiar and comforting, touching a lock of the figure's light hair,

"Mother..."

Zexion whispered the word as he was carried off, drifting out of consciousness again.

He did not notice the strands of hair cradled between his fingers did not match his own.

He did not notice the absence of physical warmth.

He did not notice the lack of the heartbeat he had been straining to hear.

_**(Post Script: I almost cried while writing that last bit. No, I don't know where it came from. Maybe blame The Land Before Time XD.**_

_**I promise the next chapter won't take so long!)**_


	6. In The Cold Light of the Morning

**_(Author's Note: Finally it is done! I was unhappy with it for weeks but my test reader said it was good so I decided to finally prove it isn't dead and post XD.)_**

**Part 6: In The Cold Light of the Morning.**

_In the cold light of morning__  
You're drunk sick from whoring and lie__  
Staring back from the mirror's  
A face that you don't recognise_

Zexion woke up in a haze of blurred vision and what felt like sludge in his head. He attempted to sit up, wincing when he realised he had something inside his arm that rather felt like an IV.

Wait.

He blinked and tried to clear the fuzz from his vision, looking around as his mind slowly processed his surroundings, White walls...White scratchy sheets...The mattress was thinner and harder than he liked but it felt like heaven after the solid and unyielding jungle floor.

Hospital.

But...How in the worlds did he get here? Zexion closed his eyes, rubbing them and trying to collect his thoughts. Amidst long blank spaces were small slivers of memory, or what seemed like it. His mother..Huh, he had not thought of her in a long while...Vexen...Vexen...? Oh, shit...The Academic had come to rescue him? How...Humiliating! When he had resigned himself to fading away in some backwater world...He had not intended on being rescued!

Still, there was little time to consider this as the darkness was calling him again...Getting increasingly hard to keep his eyes open and think...Zexion didn't fight it, knowing that he was in no state to even try.

It seemed like only seconds before he was staring up at a mix of green and yellow that his brain slowly rendered into form and face and...

"...Vexen..."

His voice sounded hoarse and weak, even to him, but he found he didn't care a bit. The world was lovely and fluffy and nothing hurt. He dared not question such a improvement; past events had taught him better.

Cool fingers touching his face brought him out of his thoughts and he met the other man's eyes, watching his lips move but not really hearing his words.

"You've been unconscious for nearly twenty-four hours, Zexion, your injuries and lack of nutrition has left you very weak. You'll be staying here for at least a week so I can keep an eye on you." And keep Axel away from him...Hopefully...The boy looked so pale and ill under the artificial lights, it was frightening, really. He had come so close and not even realised it...Vexen was more determined than ever to make sure that the Cloaked Schemer was kept away from harm, namely Axel, so he could heal and realise the error of his ways. Xemnas had given him some leeway in view of his injuries...But not much, considering Axel's claims still...As long as Zexion stood up for himself this time and told the Superior the truth things would be okay...

He hoped.

Vexen shook his thoughts away, watching his former lover quietly. His fingers ached to stroke that silvery hair that he recalled was silky soft and would do more to comfort the boy than words. He didn't quite dare. That might be interpreted in any number of ways he didn't want. Laying a hand on the boy's arm instead, Vexen gave him a quiet smile. He wasn't altogether surprised when Zexion flinched away from the touch, "What has he done to you?"

Zexion looked up when he heard the soft question, meeting Vexen's gaze for a second before looking off in a clear dismissal. The Academic wanted to shake him. You idiot! He wanted to scream, How could you let him destroy you like this! How have you become so weak? What happened to you! I love you I love you I love...I can't love you but damnit...

Vexen sighed, frustrated and shook his head, turning to leave, all this was giving him a terrible headache and really, he needed to sleep soon. He didn't want to leave Zexion but...He wasn't sure his presence was really appreciated either.

Being alone didn't much help either, he had to admit, at least his thoughts could roam free and he needn't worry about his façade dropping. Vexen kneaded his forehead with his fingers, flopping into the chair at his desk with a deep sigh. Zexion was obviously going to be harder to heal than he had first thought. It wasn't a case of taking Axel away from him any more...The look in his eyes had told Vexen that much; Zexion still didn't see Axel as a problem. Or worse...He believed he deserved it and couldn't escape it. The Cloaked Schemer was ashamed of it, no question, or was that just this unavoidable admittance of weakness? Ienzo had always hated to concede defeat and had avoided it at all costs...

That just made it worse. If Zexion would not or could not confess to needing his help (and truly, Vexen doubted he would) then he would have to be forcefully isolated from Axel long enough for him to rebuild himself.

But that could take years. Not to mention Xemnas would argue that the Organisation simply did not have the resources nor the time to be one man down. Even if Zexion hadn't been anything up to his usual calibre in quite some time now.

This...Was not going to be easy. Apparently Zexion would not learn from Ienzo's mistakes as easily as Vexen had hoped.

* * *

Zexion drifted in and out of consciousness for the next few days, his body slowly healing thanks to the impeccable care Vexen gave him and the absent abuse. Fifteen days after his return, the little Schemer finally woke up with a clear head and the deep desire to do something. Anything. He sat up slowly, groaning as the movement brought on a slight dizzy spell. Rubbing his head, he looked around slowly, confirming that yes, he was back in The World That Never Was and no he wasn't just hallucinating. That was somewhat good at least. He would have to face Xemnas and Axel at some point but...He tried not to worry about that for now. Stretching lethargically, he slid out of the bed, almost collapsing the second his feet hit the cold floor. Steadying himself on the bed, he took a moment to allow his body to readjust to being vertical.

Then, he took his first few shaky child-like steps. There was no feeling of elation or pride, just a hatred almost deep enough to truly cripple himself. He was weak. He was stupid. What was left of the prodigal apprentice? Had that gone along with his heart?

Zexion wasn't so sure he cared any longer.

He forced himself to press on, staggering and feeling sick and dizzy from the exertion. He stopped once he was shaking too badly to walk more and almost cried when he realised he had only made it halfway along the corridor. He sighed deeply, letting himself sink to the floor. What had happened? He was stronger than this, surely?

Or had it all been a lie? A crude mask he had hid behind like everything else...Zexion laughed. Maybe his powers had consumed what the darkness hadn't...After all, insanity was only visible to the sane...He found himself hunched over, laughing hard enough to make breathing even more painful once he regained his sense and composure. What a stupid notion! He was the master of illusion, he could not fall victim to his own tricks!

With that thought, the Schemer forced himself back to his feet, looking over at the stairs and starting the slow and painful journey once again. Humpf. He wasn't going to let a short walk get the better of him!

Several more agonising moments of slow progress and slow passing were starting to prove otherwise, however, and no amount of determination could overcome the cold facts. He couldn't make it out of the medical wing. Not by himself at any rate. With a deep sigh, he settled on the lowest stair, waiting for either the strength to return to his room, or Vexen or Lexaeus to find him.

He would have preferred the former, honestly, not wanting Vexen to see him so weak any longer but it was far more likely that he would have to settle for further humiliation. At least it was Vexen and not Axel...

Axel, the one whose fault it was that he was even in this state. Or was it his own? Zexion wasn't sure any longer, nor was he sure it truly mattered.

"Something has to be done! If the Superior will not see that Ienzo needs the time to recuperate then we must make sure that he has no choice but to allow us to proceed as we see fit!"

Lexaeus silently watched his colleague rant and pace as he had done for the past hour or so, his speech going in circles as much as his feet. The only conclusions that had been met were that keeping Axel away from Zexion might prove problematic, and vice versa, and that they needed to convince Xemnas that no, Zexion hadn't attempted to defect.

Conclusions that had been met some time beforehand and reiterating them wasn't speeding up production much if at all.

"...He doesn't even see that there is something wrong! How will we ever-"

Vexen was displaying his uncanny ability to see nothing but the bad side of things. Realistic he may be but some optimism wouldn't kill him. He turned and walked to the other side of the room, gesturing in an uncharacteristically wild fashion as he berated himself for failing to notice how dire the situation had become and wondering aloud how, exactly, they would deal with that who wouldn't obey them if they held a gun to his head.

Eventually Lexaeus had to take matters into his own hands to save the poor floor from being angrily trodden upon any longer. He stopped Vexen's tirade simply by placing one large hand on his shoulder, the touch surprisingly light considering his stature.

"I will speak with him." He gave Vexen a quiet smile, understanding the irony of his word choice. They both knew any talking would be on Zexion's part. If he would even acknowledge the attempt to help him. Nevertheless, Lexaeus left Vexen and calmly headed towards Zexion's room, thinking over how to best breach the subject.

He didn't get far. With a deep and weary sigh he observed the boy attempting to limp up the steep stairs to the main part of the castle. Fool. He strode over, sadly unsurprised that Zexion didn't notice his presence until he as only a few feet away. The Schemer drew away from him so fast he almost lost balance, steadying himself on the wall and watching the bigger man with the wariness Lexaeus had only before seen in scared, trapped animals. He was seeing what had upset Vexen so badly. It wasn't folly that was keeping Zexion chained to Axel, it was something deeper and far more destructive.

How did you fall so far, Ienzo?

_**(Post Script: As I said, I wasn't 100 percent happy with this and so feedback would be very much appreciated!)**_


End file.
